Empty Cities: The 35th Hunger Games
by BrokenMockingjay
Summary: In an 'empty city', with a Gamemaker willing to orchestrate horrifying events to preserve her life, these 24 unlucky tributes will have to be strong: Mentally, Physically and Emotionally. SYOT CLOSED!
1. Prologue, Tribute List and Form

**Hi! I know some of you might be confused and i'm sorry. The Gary-Stu and Mary Sue thing was a prank on me by my friends. Sorry! And enjoy.(I never type or say "ya'll")**

 **P.S. If you guys want, I can actually do a Mary-Sue and Gary Stu SYOT. If I get seven PMs or Reviews requesting it, I will do one.**

Titania Rysollo, Gamemaker of the 35th Hunger Games

I move my chair over to the glass window, and stare at the 'sea'. The technology here is just _fabulous._ I stand up, and pace. Yes, the technology is wonderful, but if the 35th Games aren't successful, let's just say…I will not be here to enjoy the technology. I stare at the pictures of my predecessors. Only one died of old age. Lets see, who was first to go? _Cannalia Moreno,_ the 1st Hunger Games. Well, she let that District 6 twit live. It's her fault. _Vlaerius Trite, Ganni Ander_. The same fate as Cannalia. I scan the walls, skipping the other 16 ex-gamemakers, and find him. _Trence Pocrlie._ He survived ten years, spanning from the 18th Hunger Games, to the 28th, and then he died at the ripe old age of 84, by what else? Old age. Lucky thing. He even designed the 1st Quarter Quell. Lava lakes, molten rock walls, boiling geysers… a wonderful Arena. This is my 3rd year as Gamemaker, and I will survive. I scan the walls again, and smirk. President Snow loves being feared, and that's exactly what this wall is for. To motivate me. To remind me of the consequences. But as I said before, I will survive. I am the Gamemaker, not tribute. I call President Snow, and wait for him to see my plans.

—

Hi! Here is the tribute form. Failure to meet all requirements will mean your tribute being turned down, unless it's really good and you wish to submit him/her as a Bloodbath. Mary Sues and Gary Stus will not be accepted and please try to make your tributes as realistic as possible. No emotionless Careers with emotions and shiny purple hair. Please remember that this is not first come first serve, and that you can submit another tribute if your first tribute is declined. The maximum is 4 tributes per submitter. All of this must be submitted in a PM form, titled: 'Age,District Number, Gender, Name'. Example: '15, D7, Female, Willow Gold.' Thank you!

* * *

Here is the tribute form:

Name:

Gender:

Age:

District:

Quote:

Weaknesses(one more weakness than strength!):

Strengths(Max is 5):

Preferred weapon(s):

Appearance(At least 5 sentences! I don't want just adjectives!):

Personality(Same requirements as appearance!):

Token(Optional):

Family(Enter age,appearance, a short bio and their relationship with the tribute):

Friends(Same requirements as family):

Drive to win:

Why should she/he win?

Interview angle:

Chariot outfit ideas:

Reaping outfit:

Interview outfit ideas:

Reaped/Volunteer and if volunteer, why:

Preferred death:

Alliances:

Backstory:

Romance?:

Sexual orientation:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Anything else:

* * *

 **~Tribute List~**

District 1:

F: Radiance Drite - TheFlawsInPerfection(FictionPress)

M: Carne Amel - _Anonymous_

District 2:

F: Narcissa Djokovic - AmericanPi

M: Cassius Harding - FrlBarth

District 3:

F: Sage Ellison - love-peace-hugs

M: Spark Voltuz - HoppsHungerfan

District 4:

F: Matilda 'Tilly' Sybil - glittergirl20

M: Kai Makara - SafeandSoundD4

District 5:

F: Carlia 'Carl' Greensmyth - I believe in nargles too

M: Jake Carter - Jeptwin

District 6:

F: Tyra Benson - BrokenMockingjay

M: Toph Reading - AmericanPi

District 7:

F: Lystra Stoicorum - RenderUntoCaesar

M: Tupelo Squir - goldie031

District 8:

F: Gossamer 'Amer' Quivyut - TheFlawsInPerfection(FictionPress)

M: Ethan Coir - TheFlawsInPerfection(FictionPress)

District 9:

F: Eclipse Ackerman - the greenfieldgirl

M: Blaze Horn - Lmklein20account2

District 10:

F: Elizabeta Frond - _Anonymous_

M: Harley Rassell - Cat of Flame

District 11:

F: Sheila Renway - Tribute00

M: Gingko Shiva - AmericanPi

District 12:

F: Violet Hazelwood - FrlBarth

M: Messiah Black - FronTierBrain

 **AN: Thanks again!**

 **-AriaStorm**


	2. District 4 Reapings

**DISTRICT 4 REAPINGS**

 **AN: Special thanks to goldie031 for beta-ing for me!**

* * *

Matilda Sybil, 17

"Bad things don't happen to bad people"

* * *

"Hurry up! We gotta close shop!" I slam my fist onto the table. "Make a choice or get out!" I shout at the old man. "Hurry up! I gotta prepare for the Reaping!"

A lie. The Reaping isn't for another three hours, and preparation only takes one. The closing shop thing is a lie too, but who shops on Reaping days? Even if you needed to buy a dress, this is not a clothing shop, this is an antique/trinket shop!

The man mumbles something, buys a shell necklace, and shuffles out. Good riddance. God, I hate people who mumble. Complainers are the only ones worse. If you feel dissatisfied, get out!

Hold up. Before you think I'm bitchy, think again. It's Reaping day! I know, there are volunteers, but... still. I'm nervous, who isn't? If you haven't trained, the Games are practically a death sentence. I can't go in the Games. I can't stand blood.

Pushing away my thoughts, I flip the 'OPEN' sign over to 'CLOSED', and try to sneak out.

"Say hi to Bradly for me, won't you Tilly?"

I smile. Tori always catches me. "I'll take your shift tomorrow, kay sis?" I reply to her.

Tori makes a choking sound. I turn around and I see that she is very pale. "If we survive," she whispers.

I sigh. These are my worries, but as the older sister, I have to reassure her. "Tori, we live in District 4, not 12. Every year there are volunteers! We won't be reaped. I promise." She smiles weakly and flips the sign back over to 'OPEN'.

* * *

Kai Makara, 18

"If you care for something, make time for it."

* * *

With a simple twist, I disarm my opponent, Custin. Smirking, I bow mockingly for the audience.

"And the volunteer for the 35th Games is…. KAI MAKARA!" Dara Caria, Victor of the 30th announces. "Clean up! Remember, be early to the Reaping!" She makes other announcements, but I saunter out. The announcements don't apply to me, because I won't be here."Kai! Wait up!" calls Anita Cestine, the female official volunteer for this year. She walks by my side, excitedly chatting about the Games. "It's gonna be awesome! I call the District 1 slut! They are so fun to kill!"

I roll my eyes. I turn to her, grip her arms tightly and look into her eyes. I put my lips to her ear and whisper: "I don't actually care. You can go hook up with the District 2 mentors for all I care."

She turns red, and I feel an arm wrapping around my bicep, pulling me forward. I roll my eyes again as I catch sight of one of my closest female friends. "Mariam? Where are we going?"

"To the beach!" I smile. I really like her, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't like me. Horribly cliched, isn't it?

* * *

Matilda Sybil, 17

* * *

Smiling, I walk with Bradly to the Central Courtyard, where the Reapings take place. I zone out as I go through the motions of Reaping Day. Give them your hand, wince from the prick, walk with the female seventeen-year-olds. Watch the movie, note with amusement that the new escort with neon pink hair and eyelashes feels disgusted with the smell of the fish, and pretend to pay attention to the speeches.

"And the lucky female tribute this year is…." I snap back into the world at the sound of the new escort's voice. Though I reassured Tori, I still feel the fear that is familiar to everyone in the District consume me. The escort carefully picks a card, makes a show of breaking the seal and says slowly: "Ser-"

"I volunteer!" The clear sound cuts through the tension. I see Mariam Merrill, a girl that I vaguely remember being in my math class, climb the stage.

"No! I volunteer! This is my year, bitch!" A redheaded girl calls out. The taller, more muscular girl strides quickly up the stage.

Two volunteers? Wow. Something different. Mariam is obviously not the proper volunteer. She'll never get into the Games like this. Procedurally, the escort should prevent her from going into the Games by 'randomly' picking the right volunteer. Then Mariam will have to face the penalty. Unlike One and Two, we don't let our volunteers fight on stage. They'll get hurt, and that'll ruin their chances in the games. The Capitol won't fix up any tribute unless they're critical.

Anyways, the penalty for volunteering before your year is getting kicked out of the Academy and becoming an outcast. In a community-happy place like Four, that's gotta be hard. That's why volunteering before your year is almost non-existent. But there are still the dumb/brave ones. And they lose. Always.

The escort looks delighted, yet slightly scared of the drama."Girls, girls! Calm down. None of you are going into the Games! Please get off the stage!" Wow. This neon haired escort is completely stupid. She should have remembered the name of the proper volunteer that the mentors told her, and "randomly" picked her to go into the Games. I know she doesn't know District 4 reaping procedure, because she's new, but from years of watching Reapings, she should have at least known to ask them to duel. I wonder what'll she'll do now.

Fuming, the redhead shoves Mariam and walks off the stage. Mariam gets up and also walks back down the stage.

"I shall pick a new tribute!" announces the escort. "No volunteers!"

I feel a fear gripping at my insides. Crap. Is that even legal? No, I don't think so. But who can stop her now? Not Tori, not me, not Tori, not me, I silently chant.

The escort's voice rings through the air: "And the female volunteer is…Matilda Sybil!"

No, it's not me! I heard it wrong! No, no, no…Yet Peacekeepers guide me to the stage. "Come on up, don't be shy!" the escort says.

I stand on the stage, suddenly numb and detached. A boy of eighteen volunteers, apparently called Kai. As the escort makes us shake hands, the full force of everything comes down on me hard, and I black out.

* * *

Kai Makara, 18

* * *

"I volunteer!" I hear Mariam call. I want to stand up, to scream, but Anita beats me to it.

But after the initial shock, I'm not really interested anymore. After all, Mariam won't be going into the Games; District 4 and the escort will make sure of that.

After their drama, a smaller girl is called up, and she's in so much shock that Peacekeepers have to guide her up. I roll my eyes; she won't really be a good ally. But tradition and respect for my District will probably make me ally with her. If she becomes a liability or prevents me from joining the Careers, though, there might be an unfortunate accident in the Games where she "startles me". Or maybe I'll be too slow to save her. Whatever. I'll figure it out later.

After some little boy is called I volunteer, and walk up the stage. I shake her hand, but she blacks out, and the Peacekeepers have to carry her off. Smiling, I see myself as Victor, coming home.

* * *

Matilda Sybil, 17

* * *

"Tilly. Wake up. Wake up!"

I vaguely see a boy. "Bradly!" I suddenly say. "Where am I?" He seems panicked and I remember. I got reaped.

"I don't have time. Remember Tilly, you can do this. You can come home. You will come home. Do whatever it takes. Just come home. I love you. Can you take this as your token?" Bradly puts a creamy seashell onto my palm. "It was supposed to be our second anniversary present, but…just bring the sea and me with you."

He seems to be holding back, and he's looking at me sadly. I realize that inside he knows that I will not be coming back, except in a coffin. All he's trying to do is to convince himself that the world is fair. But it isn't. Bad things don't happen to bad people, no, not at all. "Bradly…I will try to come home. I will try. But…if… don't let Tori see, okay?" I smile wearily. "Where is Tori anyways? Where's Mark?"

"Victoria had to take your father home. I think it might have hurt him too much, reminded him too much of your mother. He used to say that you looked like her, right?"

Inod, and open my mouth to speak, but Peacekeepers interrupt us. Though Peacekeepers drag him away, he still says: "I love you Tilly! Come home,pleas- " The door clangs shut. And I'm alone.

* * *

Kai Makara, 18

* * *

"How could you?" I rush to Mariam as she enters the room. "How could you volunteer? You knew I was the volunteer! How could you" She hugs me, her face hidden in my shirt. I sigh, "Why Mariam? Why?"

Her voice is muffled by my shirt and her tears, but I still hear her, clear as a bell, "Cause I liked you, dumbass! I wanted to prevent you from entering! You have a life here, I don't!"

Smirking slightly and blushing, I say, "I like you too. But you have a life back here. You have me!"

"Not if you die in the Games!"

"I won't Mariam. I will come back for you. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. How can you like me? You once told me: 'If you care for something, make time for it.' But you have no time for me." I stay silent, slightly embarrassed. "So I like you, Kai, but…I don't know, can this work? Can you use this as your token please? Just a piece of me. Bye, Kai, bye." Rushing out of the door, she disappears from my sight.

With only a leather and sea glass bracelet to keep me company, I sigh. She was wrong. I have no life here, other than her. My parents didn't even care enough to wish me luck. And it was my father who pushed me to volunteer! My mother always told me she was proud of me. So where is she? Staring out the window, I watch as it blurs with salty water.

* * *

 **A/N: So there it is! I need more tributes, so feel free to submit! Please review!**

 **What did you think of both tributes? Predicted placings?**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Signing off,**

 **BrokenMockingjay**


	3. District 8 Reapings

**District 8 Reapings**

* * *

Gossamer Quivyut, 14

"I'm nothing special."

* * *

"Get out! Get ready for the Reaping!" Peacekeepers boom through their megaphones. We start packing up, and hurriedly leave. Leaving late, even if you just want to clean up properly, will make them cut your pay by half for a month. Five minutes is all the time they give you after announcements to clean up and clear out.

Sounds unfair? Well, it is. Ever since two years ago, when Lanol Jute managed to set up a bomb using machine parts in the other textile factory while he was staying behind and 'cleaning up', security has tightened and pay has been cut by a third. Now only less than 1/40 of our population, including the Mayor and Peacekeepers, live above the so-called poverty line. To make it worse, we can't own factories. Eight rebelled second, after thirteen in the Dark Days, so all the land and buildings in Eight are owned by the Capitol, and everything we have — which isn't much — is a reminder of how 'merciful' the Capitol is.

Rushing home through the smog, I arrive at our illegal shack. Actually, calling it a shack is pretty generous. It's just a shallow ditch in the soil with some cardboard 'walls', illegally built on the outskirts of the factory land. The upside of living like this is that we can move around easily when there are Peacekeeper alerts, unlike the 'nicer' shacks that are pitched close to us. The downside is, well, we never are out of the smog, we don't have furniture, and we can't really progress.

According to this ancient guy who lived way before Panem, Abraham Mas—something said that we need sufficient food, water, shelter etc. before we can move on to safety, belonging, self-esteem, self-actualisation or whatever. Yeah, we don't have any of that first layer of that in Eight, even for the richest. So how can I, one of the poorest in Panem, progress?

Ducking inside my shack, I hope that whatever God there is won't let me be Reaped. Maybe I only have an uncaring mother to come home to, but I simply want to live. I'm selfish, yes, but, to be frank, I'm nothing special. Just another rule-following, life-loving girl who really, really wants to live.

* * *

Ethan Coir, 15

"I may be uncaring, but I'm not blind."

* * *

Walking out of school, I smirk. Being a Mayor's son sure has its privileges. I don't have to work my fingers down to the bone, and I get to sit in class, throwing spit wads at the others. The teachers can't stop me. I'm the Mayor's kid!

Damn, my dad will fire them if they even scold me. He basically spoils me, because if he doesn't give me what I want, I'll just annoy the shit out of him and he won't get any work done. I know we aren't rich but I don't care.

Coughing, I start walking down the streets. I live in the now. I have to get what I want. That's it. Yes, I see the sad skinny little kids walking down the streets, but it's not my problem. Yes, I'm aware of the illegal sweatshops where kids are basically killed as a punishment for messing up a stitch, but, yet again, not my problem. I may be uncaring, but I'm not blind.

"Ethan! Wash up! Reaping in an hour!" My mom yells as I enter the house. "I'm not bailing you out of jail if you're late!" My mom's cool, I guess.

Yelling back a hoarse, "Love you too mom", I rush upstairs to wash up. Suddenly, I start wheezing, and feeling short of breath. Curling my lip, I feel nervous. Not because of the Reaping (I only have my name in four times) but because— I rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pain in my chest. I spit out whatever I coughed up into the basin, and it's confirmed. I am definitely dead.

* * *

Gossamer Quivyut, 14

* * *

As I futilely swat away the omnipresent smoke, I half-heartedly wave to my mother and head for the fourteen-year-old section. Standing in the town square, I feel slightly worried about the amount of radon we are exposed to. After Lanol Jute's explosion, amounts of radon were spread in spread to the surrounding areas. The town square is really close to the charred remains of the factory. Paired with the smog, lung cancer is sure to hit some of us.

How do the mayor and his family manage to avoid lung cancer? Seriously, their house is across the street from the burned down factory. I know some of their house was damaged by the explosion and had to be rebuilt, so how do they avoid it? Probably their money managed to buy them Capitol medicine or something. Though Mayor Coir just spends his money on spoiling his son. He isn't really a good mayor.

Rarity Valerine, our escort sashays up the stage, wearing a new wig that looks like a bejewelled turban. Wouldn't the weight of the gems hurt her head? I guess in the Capitol, beauty comes first.

She screeches out her spiel, then her impossibly long and hooked fingernails capture a piece of paper. I squeeze shut my eyes. I don't know if I should be scared or not. I feel somehow… uninvolved. Like someone has numbed the part of me that feels emotion.

"And the lucky girl is… Gossamer Quivyut!"

I make my way up. I'm still not scared. Shouldn't I feel scared? This means death.

Breaking through my musings is Rarity's screechy voice, announcing that Ethan Coir, the mayor's spoiled son is the male tribute. He seems resigned, then surprised, then frantic. His emotions are in reverse, huh? He tries to run off, but he's caught.

After shaking his hand, I stare up at the sky. To my surprise, I see a smudge of blue sky in the grey, life-consuming smog. Even more surprising, it seems that Ethan sees it too.

* * *

Ethan Coir, 15

* * *

I walk slowly to the square, and to the fifteen-year-old section. I hear giggles and see people whispering about me, about how spoiled I am, about my father who isn't the best mayor. As I said before, I'm uncaring, but I'm not blind. I should have that inscribed on my tombstone. I seem to be thinking that a lot lately.

Whatever. I still see, and I'm not that wrapped up in my life. I'm not even sure how much time I have on this planet.

As I wallow in my self-pity, I hear a girl, Gossamer, I think, being reaped. 'Let me be reaped. I have no life…' I think.

As it seems, fate has heard me, and seems to have a twisted sense of humour, because I hear the escort say, "And the lucky male representing Eight is… Ethan Coir!"

Startled gasps escape the crowds and a scream from the adult section confirms that as a matter of fact, I am the 'lucky' male tribute. As some people push me forward, I start to get frantic. I start to push my way against the crowd, trying to get away. Who cares what I wished before? I would rather die slowly by cancer than be bashed to death in the games. Soon, though, I am dragged up the stage by Peacekeepers.

Sulking, I shake the younger girl's hand. She looks up to the sky and I do too. And I think I see a glimmer of hope.

* * *

Gossamer Quivyut, 14

* * *

I sit on the plush velvet sofa, and wait. Suddenly, I notice my mother, standing awkwardly by the door. Clearing her throat, she walks over. I turn away. We haven't talked in a while, so why should she talk now? She hasn't cared in a while, so why start now?

"Amer? Girlie…come home," she whispers.

"Where is home?" I ask, staring at the glass of water next to the sofa, on a table. "I don't have a home. Nor a family."

She blinks tears out of her eyes. Why should she cry? I should be crying, not her. I was the one with the drunk parent, the one who wandered off for days and drained the bit of money I had saved. "Come home, please, Amer. You're smart—"

"How did you find out?" I say harshly. "You've never paid attention to me before. Just your glass of cheap beer. We're related by blood, yes. you gave birth to me. But that's it. I've paid back what I owe to you for raising me for six years. So… just go. Why start being a parent when I'm gonna die?"

"Amer. Look at me. You won't die. I promise. When you come home, I'll show you I can be a parent. I'll show you, and we can be a family."

I open my mouth to bitterly laugh and send back a biting response, telling her I won't come back, and not to make a promise that I will have to keep. This is just like her, making promises that _I_ have to keep. She can be a family with my corpse.

But before I can tell her all of that, a Peacekeeper tells us that her time is up. "I love you Amer," she says. She waits a little in the doorway, waiting for me to say it back. I hate myself for saying it back to her, but I figure, it's her last time seeing me in the flesh, so I might as well. Not that she deserves it anyways.

Turning away from her retreating form, I watch the water again, morbidly speculating about how I will die.

* * *

Ethan Coir, 15

* * *

"Ethan boy! Do us proud, kay? When you come back as Victor, you can finally treat your lungs. Good, huh?" My mom blurts out. I can see she's nervous, from the way her words come out in a mash. From his position beside mom, dad comes over and hugs me. I can see that he has been crying, from his puffy eyes. I've always known he was the more sensitive one.

"Okay, mom. I'll try to come back," I say awkwardly. I love my parents, but I've always been bad with words. Sure, my thoughts fly at a hundred miles per hour most of the time, but when it comes down to it, my mouth won't say things right.

Looking mildly comforted, dad pulls away. "I love you son. You know that, right? Uh…can you…"

He looks embarrassed, so mom steps in and says simply: " Your scatterbrained father forgot to bring your token. Don't worry, I brought it." She hands me a black marble. "You used to adore this marble. You use to boast that this was the only black marble in the world. I bet you would've lost it to pretty much every kid in school that played marbles with you, but I'm guessing that you bullied them into making them give you their marbles." She glares at me, ever angry about my bullying.

I sulk, then say, "I got reaped today, mom. I found out that my cancer is definitely back. What do you want?"

She rolls her eyes, but softens, and hugs me. "It's not right, Ethan, to abuse your power. But..." She cuts herself off, and looks around. "Whatever. Just try to come back, okay?" She smiles, and hugs me. Dad does the same, then they both leave.

I feel lonely with no one in the room. But no one wants to see The Mayor's Kid. I wonder how long I'll last in the arena.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry for the slow update, again. Finals :/ Early Merry Christmas to you guys!**

 **Special thanks to goldie031 for beta-ing.**

 **-BrokenMockingjay**


	4. District 1 Reapings

**DISTRICT ONE REAPINGS**

* * *

Radiance Drite, 17

"If only I could go on my own terms."

* * *

I could pass for perfect if you looked over my shoulder into the mirror attached to the vanity table. Glossy, wavy, white blond hair up in a neat twist. A flawless complexion. A face that has been compared to perfectly chiseled marble many times. Ice blue eyes. A button nose. Bowed light pink lips.

I could pass for perfect if you looked only at my school records. A plus after A plus. I could pass for perfect if you looked at my Academy reports. I was the best. The sure volunteer.

But the accident took everything away from me.

I could pass for perfect if you interviewed all my friends. A poor girl in a horrible accident. But aren't they wrong. So wrong. When was I ever a sweet, loving, innocent girl?

Before the accident, I was a bitch. I've always been a bitch. I was involved with setting up the firework. I'm not some poor saint that got mixed up with the wrong crowd. But I let them think what they want to think.

It's not like I smile sadly and bravely go to classes and make speeches all over Panem. I don't visit my 'attackers' in jail. I just sit and quietly curse all of them for forgetting yet again that I'm _Radiance_ , even if I look like a pathetic shadow of my former self. I look like I've been defeated, but this is just a setback. This ain't gonna stop me. Idiots, you think that because I have a scarred, blackened stump in place of my right leg that looks horrible, and a left leg that is a disgusting, stick thin, scarred twisted thing devoid of the hard-earned muscle I had put on, and because the skin starting from below my bellybutton is marred with scar after scar, I'm a saint? Did the teachers forget that they hated me and wished me dead? Did the scrawny nerds and freaks forget that I taunted and bullied them mercilessly? Did the exes forget that I toyed with their hearts and smashed them to pieces? Did my family forget the many family dinners I skipped and the countless fights I've had with them? Did my 'friends' forget that they never knew me, only that I was a heartless bitch? Does anyone remember? Did they forget?

If they forgot, they made a mistake. Or maybe they've gotten better at hiding. And I'm proud.

* * *

Carne Amel, 18

"I'm not going to be tearing myself apart over the past."

* * *

"Should we go train or go to the dance studio to check out the chicks?" I ask.

"I want a smoothie," replies Jaspire. "Then we can go to the dance studio."

Sighing, I agree. I want to train. I'm this year's volunteer. But I can't ditch my best friend. It's Reaping day, and there's a chance that I won't make it out alive.

The dance studio is a large dark theatre that has been around for ages. There used to actually be plays in there, but after the Dark Days there wasn't time for that stuff. So we turned it into a dance studio, a sort of sport for the children and teenagers that didn't go to the Academy. It's wimpy, but the girls there are hot.

After wandering around a little, we find that there's nobody there. That's weird. The instructors are damn strict about not wasting any practice time and train even on Reaping days.

"Crap. I forgot. Radiance," Jaspire says, and I squeeze shut my eyes. How could we have forgotten? A year ago, the day before the Reaping, Radiance Drite was involved in an accident concerning a firecracker. It burned badly her legs and lower torso. After infection set in, she lost her right leg. She was the kind of girl that everyone knew. In honour of the dance school's former star, on the day before the Reaping and Reaping day, they wouldn't practice. Same with school. Pointless if you ask me, but these are the kinds of things people do for Radiance.

Back to her: You either loved her or hated her. But hating her was pointless. She would just make your life miserable, and use your words against you. She was good at everything, even if you tried to push her down. She was smart, beautiful, talented, strong. But she was missing things inside. She was empty, and she filled that emptiness with ice. Even though we all knew we should stay away from her, that she was dangerous, manipulative, icy, we just followed her mindlessly. We put it down to her perfectness, to her manipulation, but in reality, we were just weak, and she was strong. She had been perfect outside. But we all knew inside she was made of ice. I would know.

I had loved her. Tried to break through her walls. But it was pointless. I just became another ex.

But I'm gonna win the Games. I'm not going to be tearing myself apart over the past.

I'll show her.

* * *

Radiance Drite, 17

* * *

Wheeling myself into the Reaping square, I ignore everyone and push away my mother's attempts at helping me. Suddenly, I hear, "Icy bitch."

Smiling, I turn in that direction, a little smile forming on my face. I see a girl with honey-blonde hair and dark green eyes staring at me and smirking. Standing up, I feel unstable without my right leg and balancing on my weak left leg, but I don't back down. Still smiling, I rest my hands on my hips and ask, "What did you say?"

She trembles, but holds her ground. "Icy bitch." I laugh.

"A make-up diva like you commenting on me?" Not my best line, but I want to see how she reacts.

She mumbles, "White haired freak", but shrinks back. Weakling. No fun at all. But she's still standing in front of me.

Sighing, I hold my hand. Instinctively, she takes it. I laugh out loud. Trusting. Stupid. Bitch. I quickly push her to the ground and hold out my knife. My knee buckles, and I fall, but I ignore it. "You say I'm a white-haired freak? You don't know your stats and colours then. My hair is white-blond, and 89% of District 1 citizens say that girls with white-blond hair are more beautiful and desirable. Since only 34% of people in this District have white-blond hair, I guess I'm a rarity, huh?"

Not true. Being one of the 34% doesn't make me a rarity, but she eats up the shit, so who cares?

"If you love your common as shit hair, well… too bad." I take a few locks of her hair and slice at it choppily. I'm surprised no one stops me, but I guess that this is entertainment for the Peacekeepers and who stops _Radiance_? She whimpers and starts to cry. Bitch. I take more and cut, until she is full out bawling.

"Done," I say in satisfaction. Half of her hair is cut in a choppy mess, and the other half is normal. She hides behind her meek boyfriend, and I just say, "You forget I'm Radiance."

Laughing, I sit back in my wheelchair, not letting them see that I'm drained. The mayor finishes his mundane speech and and the escort takes over with her speech and video. Then… "Ladies first!" After a lot of moving her hand around in the glass bowl, she says: "Radiance Drite!" There are a lot of gasps as I wheel myself up to the stage.

I don't care. Not at all. Not about the gasps, or the Games. I know I'm gonna die.

I smile. I don't expect a volunteer. Usually there is a volunteer, but this year the Academy's tactic is to have a weak reaped female and a strong volunteering male. Last year the final two were both from One. The female came back with excessive mental, emotional and psychical scarring. They lost the most promising male they had in five years. To avoid that again, they came up with this tactic.

It's stupid. I could sit for days and tell you why, but eh.

Then my seventeenth ex-boyfriend comes and volunteers. It's anti-climactic.

* * *

Carne Amel, 18

* * *

There's some commotion in the seventeen-year-old waiting area, and I'm guessing, from what the eighteen-year-olds are saying, it has to do with a certain heartbreaker.

There is plenty of action here too. Some of the girls are trying to make last minute moves on me, hoping to get with a potential Victor. It's too bad I have to turn all of them down, because some of them are real lookers, but I've got to get my head in the game; and if I die, I sure don't want any girl crying over me.

Hmm… not these girls though. These girls won't be crying over me. If I die, they'll be crying over a lost bet. They just want a Victor boyfriend. And even if I was looking for a girlfriend, none of them are the loyal and faithful type I'm looking for.

Turning away from them, I try to concentrate on the speeches. There are cameras, and I want to make a good impression. Then the escort comes on and I'm feeling nervous.

I'm sure I can do this thing. But I'm just so scared of death.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can win.

I'm so caught up in my mantra, I miss the female reaping. I hear collective gasps but I'm still thinking, I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

When I volunteer for that tall sixteen-year-old and see Radiance in front of me, saying that I'm surprised is an understatement. I gasp so loudly that I'm sure that any potential sponsors have been put off by my comical reaction. Radiance is looking at me in disdain and mouthing, "Number Seventeen."

I understand immediately. She's telling me that I'm just ex number 17. She swats away my hand when I try to shake it, but the escort looks like she's going to start lecturing about following the Reaping Tradition and whatnot, and Radiance doesn't want a scene, so she sighs and shakes my hand. Actually, squeezes my hand. Hard.

But I don't care. In a few days, she'll be dead. I mean, she's getting nowhere on that twisted leg, and who says that I can't be bitter over that breakup?

* * *

Radiance Drite, 17

* * *

I take hold of the diamond necklace. Iunia had said, "Diamonds for my little diamond." How cliché. How stupid. How useless. "Thank you, _mother_ , for my token" I say. "Now…?" I point to the door, and Iunia walks out, sobbing.

I shake my head. Such a disappointment to the Drite family name. What was my father thinking when he remarried that weak woman? My mom had been strong and fierce. She had gone into the Games, for God's sake! Too bad she had died. She would have been great. She could have trained me to become even better. She would have given me a useful token with hidden properties.

Kerly, my younger half-sister, walks in and gives me a piece of amber. I smile and pocket it. She smiles tragically back, and walks out slowly, looking over her shoulder at me. I snort. She sure has inherited Iunia's dramatic flair.

My dad walks in and gives me a family photograph. Of dad, Iunia, and Kerly. I smile and pocket it. He hugs me, and keeps apologising. He cries into my shoulder, but soon leaves in a hurry, after the Peacekeepers inform him that his wife is in a very distraught state outside.

I take out the tokens and crush them. I don't need them. Then I ponder on my impending death. If only I could go on my own terms…

* * *

Carne Amel, 18

* * *

"You're coming back soon, right?" My little sister asks me. "I need you to help me with the Academy. And I need to interview you for my school project."

I smile at Olga and pinky promise. I feel pained inside, because even though I've trained, there's still a 23/24 chance that I will die.

But I chose this. And I need to stay strong for my little Olgs. At the age of six, she's incredibly fast and pretty, and I can't wait to watch her grow.

Then, I hug Piero, my older brother and partner in crime. "Little bro, you have to come home. I've got the party planned already." He says. I roll my eyes at my brother's love for parties. He whispers, "And we've got pranks to plan." I laugh and hug him. "Sure Pieguy. Where's my token?" He smiles and passes me a small carnelian. The gem I was named after. I rub the shiny red surface and hug him again.

My mother playfully shoves him out of the way and says: "Take good care of yourself Carne…" She hugs me then and stage whispers: "Your older brother stole that carnelian from me. I expect it back after the Games!"

Even though she's joking, my stomach roils. They'll get my token back, even if I die…they'll pry it from my fingers, then they'll bury me deep underground… I swallow hard, and kiss her cheek.

My father then gives me a few words of encouragement, and hugs me hard. "Come back Carne. Be safe. We've got hopes riding on you."

They leave, and the room seems too empty. I roll the carnelian around in my palm, idly rubbing it. I wonder about where I'll go when I die. Will darkness cover me? Will I be still but still thinking, for all eternity, locked inside my unmoving body? Will there be a great fire, burning me and my mind to pieces? Will there be heaven? Where will I go?

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for not updating in so long! I will try harder to update soon. Review please, and submit tributes! I need a D5 male submitted fast, or I will place one of my filler tributes in. So, what are the predicted placings for Radiance and Carne? And special thanks to goldie031 (check out her SYOT! It's great!) for beta-ing for me.**

 **Signing off,**

 **BrokenMockingjay**


	5. District 3 Reapings

**DISTRICT 3 REAPING**

 **Thanks to goldie031 for beta-ing**

* * *

Sage Ellison, 15

"I shouldn't be alive"

* * *

"Where is she? The lil girl? Dark skin? Dirty and scars? Short hair, skinny, short?"

Crap. The gang discovered that I left. How the hell did they find out so quickly?

I press myself against the wall, and hope that the old man won't give me away. No such luck. A few angry words from the gang leader— Deci? Digit? Keyes? Eh, it's one of those generic Three names— leads the stupid old man to give in, and he tells them that I live around here.

I peek around the wall and see the old guy pointing the gang in my direction. Shoot. I actually liked this alley. It was pretty warm…

Whatever. Time to move on. I grab my grey satchel and dash off. Might as well start hunting for a new spot to camp out. And definitely no more gang business unless I really need it.

The Tram Stop? No. Too public. Town Square? Obviously not. The Marketplace... Might be good for pickpocketing in the day, but it's heavily patrolled by Peacekeepers at night. The Orphanage? Oh, hell no! I'm not going back there ever again.

I turn into the alley that leads away from the rich people's neighbourhoods, and come across a bunch of abandoned shops. After peeking into a couple of stores and sweeping the machinist's shop, I come to a conclusion that this area is uninhabited. Well, for now at least. Abandoned shops are great places for other homeless people to stay in. But I might as well take advantage of it for as long as I can… and anyways I can fight my way out of most situations.

The bell sounds, and I know that it's Reaping time. I start to walk to the Design Department's Courtyard, but quickly turn back and fish out the last remaining picture of my family and a silver locket that belonged to my mother. I stuff the picture into the locket and continue walking to the Courtyard.

Hey, if I'm Reaped, I want to have a token.

* * *

Spark Voltuz, 16

"I'm rough and tumble and one to beat, I'm a fresh coat of blacktop burning at your feet."

* * *

"Jumper, no!" I hiss quietly at him. He rolls his eyes and starts to unwrap the toilet paper. "Jumper! Stop it!" I make a grab at the toilet roll.

Jumper easily pulls the roll out of reach. "And you'll make me?"

"Yea."

"How?"

"Um…I'll punch you?"

Jumper winces slightly, but continues to unwrap the paper. "I can take the punches. And punching other people is against the school rules!"

I rub my forehead. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with him. "And clogging the toilet isn't?"

"So?" The toilet roll is steadily shedding layers.

"Jumper! The teachers will definitely find out! The cleaner comes in to clean the toilets in seven minutes, and she'll definitely find us! I mean, she'll see two pairs of feet!"

"I can stand on the toilet bowl."

"And when we don't come out…?"

"Well, it's fine! I've gotten in trouble plenty of times! My parents won't care."

"The teachers will. When the teachers find out, they'll keep you behind. They'll make you sharpen pencils or erase textbooks. And frankly, you're slow. You'll be late to the Reaping! And as you know, the Peacekeepers are even stricter today! Who knows what they'll do?"

Jumper stops unwrapping and scratches his chin. "Uhh…um. When did you start thinking this far ahead anyways? Um… Hey! The teachers can't hold me back! Then they'll be late too!"

"Being a little late is fine for them. They're not being Reaped. At 3 o'clock the escort starts speaking. If any kid checks in later than 2:50, they'll be marked late, and whipped ten times. The teachers only have to be out by 3:25. After all, the Peacekeepers only start sweeping town at 3:30, and the adults don't have to check in."

"I'm still carrying out my plan. If I'm late, I'll blame it on the teachers." The mound of paper in the toilet bowl is growing steadily.

"Better safe than sorry."

"Whatever!"

"Bye, Jumper." I open the stall door and wait a little in the hallway. When I hear the toilet flush, I run.

* * *

Sage Ellison, 15

* * *

"Hand." I give the Peacekeeper my hand. I can't see through the Peacekeeper helmet, but the guy sure seems like he's trying to get a good look at me. I gulp. Maybe this guy was assigned to the orphanage and the orphanage had him track down the orphanage runaways. And I am an orphanage runaway…

I shake my head, partly to clear my mind and partly so he can't see me clearly. The Peacekeeper 'discreetly' looks at the sheet in front of me and tries to place my name. Failing that, he asks: "Miss Ellison?" and watches me intently, gauging my reaction. It's ridiculous, but I still feel panic rising. I fight the panic and look down, preventing him from looking at me too closely. I mutely point at the name beside my bloody fingerprint. The Peacekeeper humphs but motions at the younger boy behind me to move forward.

I walk quickly away and sigh in relief. I try to act like the other kids, and stand in the middle of a large group of girls, hoping that I blend in, trying to deflect any unwanted attention.

The Reaping sure is a pain. The Peacekeepers are all on super-watchful mode, and one of them might recognise and arrest me. Or worse, put me back in the orphanage. The good thing is that each year, the risk decreases.

Cassius Liber, our escort walks on stage. I've always felt grateful for him, since he's by far the most normal escort that the districts have had. Sure, he still insists on wearing the weirdest mint green make-up and clothing, but his greying hair and pudgy stomach haven't been 'fixed' by the Capitol. He makes quick, short, albeit very patriotic speeches and doesn't 'dramatically' wave his hand around in the Reaping Bowls.

"Sage Ellison."

Uh huh. Unlucky girl… I watch the clouds float.

"Sage Ellison?" Sage? Me? I'm Reaped? Me? Oh it's me, isn't it? I'm floating to the stage, floating, floating… Wait.

"WHAT THE HELL?" I shout. "Why the heck…oh, oh." I try to control myself, but I'm floating in and out of a dreamworld that I've created. Is this shock? Maybe. But this thing is absurd. Why the hell would I be Reaped?

I stand at the bottom of the stage, and wrestle with myself. Okay. You cannot make a scene. Walk up the stage, Sage. Walk up and stop being such a drama queen! You got Reaped. Wait. I got Reaped?

It's becoming increasingly hard for me to concentrate and I'm glad that some guy in mint green shoes is guiding me up the stage. "And that is Sage Ellison!" I force my head up, and try to stop thinking. All I have to do is look strong…or at least normal and in full control of my mental functions. I can sort it out later, in the trains.

"Spark Voltuz!" Some shortish guy comes up, obviously struggling to look calm. I shake his hand, and after posing for the cameras, follow Cassius backstage.

* * *

Spark Voltuz, 16

* * *

"…and this is why we have the Hunger Games," Darcy snorts, and I smile but shush her. There's no use in getting in trouble for being disrespectful of the mayor. And I probably won't be able to stand watching her get whipped. Maybe I would run up and grab the whip from the Peacekeeper, and be her gallant knight in shining armour. I would sweep her away…no. I would push her away and take her place. Then I would deserve her and maybe she would like me. Darcy's so strong, so smart, so kind. She's always helping out at the orphanage, trying to code along with the rest of the class even though that isn't what she wants to do. She so pretty too, with her long, brown, windblown hair and ruffled clothes…

"Yo. Spark. Yo!" Darcy shakes my shoulder. I blink hard and smile.

"What did you say, Darcy?"

"The Reaping is starting!" She's so nervous, and I want to comfort her by hugging or kissing her so badly. She definitely would reject me. I mean, I don't deserve her! And I definitely would prefer that she never knows that I like her. I would hate to throw away such a great friendship.

"Sage Ellison!" Darcy and I sigh in relief. Darcy is safe! For now at least. I mean, there's next year… and next next year… and next next next year.

"Sage Ellison?"

"WHAT THE HELL?" comes a voice from just below the stage. Feisty one, eh? Maybe Three will have another Victor this year.

"And now for the males!" The whole square seems to hold its breath. Darcy squeezes my hand reassuringly, and I force a smile. She mutters: "We'll be safe, you'll see." and I squeeze her hand back.

"Spark-" at least two mothers scream in fear, sure that their son is going to die in the Games. I tense in fear and sigh. Why did I have to have such a generic name? Cassius waits patiently for them to finish, and I'm sure that the anxiety and tension will kill me.

"Spark Voltuz!"

Ohmygoshthisiscrazyi'mgonnadiesomeonehelpme—I take deep breaths—thisisstupidsparkyouaregonnadiewecannotdothis—I try to let free myself from the crushing fear. I slowly make my way to the stage when suddenly Darcy pounces on me and wraps her fingers around my arm. I try to free myself from Darcy's painful grip. "Darcy, let go." She doesn't and I try to pry off her fingers. I cannot make a scene like the one that Sage made. "Darcy!" She breathes in deeply and I take the opportunity to take back my arm and walk up the stage.

I stand by Sage and try to smile.

* * *

Sage Ellison, 15

* * *

No one visits me, and I can't say I'm surprised. My family is dead, and when living on the streets, you don't have friends. You have allies. You have allies that sometimes tip you off, sometimes sell you out. They always have an underlying motive, and agenda. They don't care about you.

No one cares about me.

In some ways, it's good that I'm Reaped, so that other loved girls can be safe for a year.

I rub the necklace and thank my past self for having the foresight to bring a token. Opening my locket, I smile at my family. My mother, Harmony. She taught me about herbs and was always gentle and loving. My father, Beau. He was clam and understanding. My older sister, Rosemary. She was the typical bossy older sister, but she meant well. My younger brother, Basil. He was my favourite sibling though he was four years younger than me. We had a magical land we could escape to, and he should never have died…

None of them should have died. But they did.

I escaped death without them.

And so it's fitting that I should die in the worst way possible.

* * *

Spark Voltuz, 16

* * *

"I love you Spark. Please come home to us. I can't—not after losing your father—"

"Mom, it's okay. I'll try to come back. Please don't cry…"

She hugs me tight, then lets go. "I feel as if I should say something…"

"No, it's okay, really. I understand."

"IT'S NOT OKAY!" She shouts "YOU'RE GONNA DIE! HOW IS IT OKAY?"

"Mom…I'll try my best to come home. Honest."

"I know you will try. But…"

A Peacekeeper appears in the doorway. "Time's up!"

Mom hugs me again. "I love you Sparkie. I truly do…"

Then she's gone.

"Spark, can you take this as your token?" Asks Myx.

"Thank you…but are you sure it'll be allowed in the Arena?"

"Wire can be used as a weapon, but a 3 centimetre piece of wire is fine. What can it do?"

"Myx…I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, little brother. But go and show then that District 3 is capable of having four victors."

And he's gone.

"I didn't get in trouble!"

"Jumper! He's going into the Games. Do you think he'll care?"

"It's nice of you two to come visit me."

"Oh, Spark…" Darcy hugs me. "Why wouldn't I visit you? You're my best friend…"

I smile. I never knew I meant this much to her.

"Hey…can you take this as a token?" Asks Jumper as he hands me his piece of our 'best friend stone". It was a white piece of rock that we found by one of the factories, and after we argued over the rock, we became best friends.

"I'm sorry. I really want to take it but…"

"Yea, I know. Your family already gave you a token." Jumper says shortly.

"Don't be like that, Jumper!" Darcy snaps "He's going into the Games! Of course he'll want to bring a piece of his family along with him."

Jumper softens, and says: "But don't forget us! And remember that we'll miss you. We'll be cheering you on."

"Thank you and I won't forget, I promise."

He hugs me. "Bye, Spark."

"Bye, Jumper."

And he's gone too.

"Spark…"

"Yes, Darcy?"

Darcy looks as if she wants to say something, but decides against it and hugs me tightly. "Bye Spark. I'll miss you…Come back or I'll never forgive you."

"I'll try."

"See you later, Spark."

"Good- see you later, Darcy."

And I'm alone.

* * *

 **AN: So, predicted placings? Any thoughts on Spark and Sage? So far, who is your favourite tribute?**

 **Special thanks to HoppsHungerfan and love-peace-hugs for two stunning tributes.**

 **Signing off,**

 **BrokenMockingjay**


	6. District 10 Reapings

**DISTRICT 10 REAPING**

 **Thanks to goldie031 again for beta-ing!**

* * *

Elizabeta Frond, 15

"I need to free myself."

* * *

"You're ugly…worthless…a waste of space and money…" whispers the other Elizabeta. I close my eyes and desperately will the voice away. '"Disgusting…fat…eww…"

I open my eyes, and do my best to glare at the mirror, but it just sneers back at me. The reflections in the mirror switch between a scared, ugly girl and a pretty, sneering girl. "Stop it," I hiss.

"Oh, stop it!" Mimics other-me, delighted at getting another reaction out of me.

"I'll kill you!" I snap. It's early in the morning, and this has gone on for too long. I've been up for hours now, mind racing because of the Reaping, having to bear with her constant degrading remarks.

"Why? Because you know I'm right?" My reflection smirks. "Honestly, look at yourself!" The mirror stops flickering. I hate myself for obeying my mirror-self, but I study my face closely.

Black, straight, thin, hair. My pimpled skin is untanned, but dark. My jaw is too square, too big, too sturdy to appear feminine. My eyes are dark brown but hold no mystery or playfulness. They're plain and just there. My nose is too big. My lips are normal. The normal shape, size, and shade. Not special.

I don't bother looking at the rest of my body. I already know what I will see. A body that is normal at best.

The mirror flickers to reveal my mirror-self. Long, wavy, dark, thick tresses. Unblemished, tanned, skin. A small, delicate-looking heart-shaped face. Big and mysterious brown eyes. A cute little ski-jump nose. Red, bowed, lips.

I look away. Other-Elizabeta is everything I want to be. Beautiful, snarky, charming, smart. She starts speaking, but I slam my fist into the mirror repeatedly, and it cracks. I smile in satisfaction as the glass shards finally fall. I half-expect her to be on the other side, and I am relieved when the dull black backing is the only thing that the shards reveal. When I hear fast and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, I try to ready myself for the other monsters.

* * *

Harley Rassell, 15

"Practicality ain't always pretty, but it gets food on the table."

* * *

"Hey, Scrap. Come on. We have to go get the cows."

Scrap is up in an instant with alert eyes. He barks loudly, but I shush him quickly and cover his muzzle. Mom ain't too fond of waking up to the sound of Scrap's barks. I don't know why, honestly; he can be counted to wake me up quickly, and his bark sounds so nice. I remember when I found him that day at the dogfighting ring. He was so scared, bruised, small, and dirty. I had to give a lot of meat to the Peacekeeper in return for him though, but it was worth it. He helps me with the herding, and he's a great friend.

I walk quietly down the hallway, and sigh when I hear Scrap bounding after me. "Scrap, quiet!" I whisper, but it turns out to be useless. Mom's already up and waiting. She rolls her eyes at me and pushes a cup of coffee into my hands. I smile gratefully and gulp it down quickly, relishing the quick buzz of energy in my veins.

Leaving the house, I walk briskly to the cow enclosure, and open the gate. The cows slowly make their way out, and I watch as pink bleeds into the sky.

Bleeds… bleeds. Like the twenty-three children that will die in the next few weeks.

I whistle sharply and Scrap comes into view. I quickly hustle the cows up to the grazing areas and wait.

"Harley. Harley!"

I turn quickly in the direction that Mom's voice came from. "Yes, Mom?"

She walks quickly up and hesitates. "Huh. Reaping day, huh? Um, go spend your day free. It is after all, a holiday for us…" She hugs me and takes over.

I smile and run off, trying to feel lighthearted, but it is hard. I mean, things haven't been the same since Dad died, and I do have quite a few extra slips. Scrap barks, and I wait for him. If Ma's gonna go all sentimental and let me off early, I might as well make use of the extra time.

* * *

Elizabeta Frond, 15

* * *

I walk quietly to the District Circle, and burn under the stares of the other girls. They whisper, and I try to ignore them. Everyone knows that my parents aren't quite as… _good_ to my sister and I as other parents are.

I show Elizabeth her place with the twelve year olds and quickly make my way back to the fifteens. Suddenly, someone attempts to pull up the back of my blouse, and I turn around and hiss at the girl. She is unfazed, and says: "Let me see the scars on your back." I hit her hard and walk away.

Stupid girl.

I cradle my right hand, and hope that, by hitting it, that stupid girl didn't tear my stitches. The glass from the mirror had found its way into my skin, and I had to stitch it up after my beating. Some blood seeps through the bandages and I sigh. Once I get home, or once I get on the train, I'll have to stitch it back up.

I straighten up and try to listen to the Mayor while preventing anyone from getting too close. Seeing the girl I hit coming in my direction with a couple others, I walk away quickly. I squint at the tall, shiny buildings that border the fifteen year old area and absentmindedly reach out my hand to touch the metallic surface of the closest one, but quickly retract it as I hiss. The sun-warmed buildings are frickin hot. I glare at the buildings, and glare even harder when other-Elizabeta, slightly distorted but still beautiful, winks at me from the reflective material of the wall.

"Elizabeta! Elizabeta Frond!" Eris calls out. I scowl at other-Elizabeta for the last time and make my way to the stage. I hear a few hoots from the adult section and I turn my scowl towards my parents.

Well, at least I'm gonna get out of my parents' house. And I can finally stitch up my hand properly.

* * *

Harley Rassell, 15

* * *

"Oh, hey Harley!"

I turn and smile at Daisy, who is pushing through the crowds carefully to get to me. "Hey, Daisy."

She smiles back, and tugs me forwards. "It's nice to finally see you in some real clothing," she teases, and I grin. Daisy has this thing about being clean and not getting yourself dirty. I don't know how she manages to get away without working on her family's farm, but I'm guessing that she whined the ears off her parents' heads.

We walk a little bit longer until we find a fairly shaded place in the District Circle. It's a hot and sunny day, and I'd rather be comfortable while waiting for someone's fate to be sealed than be uncomfortable and waiting for someone's fate to be sealed. Daisy and I watch the Mayor as he rambles on about the Games and the Capitol and mercy and grace and all the stuff that he wouldn't say if he wasn't forced too. He's clearly uncomfortable in his tight suit, and is nervously looking at the cameras. He soon passes the microphone to Eris, the escort.

I watch the video with disgust. We all know that whatever crap they tell us in the video isn't true. They've twisted our words and faked documents. Daisy shakes my arm and shakes her head, and I realise that the clip is over and that I'm scowling. I catch the last few words from Eris' quick speech, and she walks over to the Reaping Ball. Daisy and I wear identical expressions of sympathy and relief when a fifteen year old girl is reaped.

Soon though, Daisy and I wear identical expressions of horror when Eris calls out, "Harley Rassell!" I look at Daisy in fear and shock, and she regretfully guides me a little way to the stage. I walk up and hope that I don't look too terrified. I carefully shake the girl's bandaged hand, and wait for the Reaping to end.

* * *

Elizabeta Frond, 15

* * *

"Don't let my parents in." My parents probably won't want to see me, but better safe than sorry. "But let my younger sister in." The Peacekeeper nods, and I return to the small room.

Soon though, the door opens. Elizabeth steps in silently, and I walk over and hug her. It's been a hard day for her. Her first Reaping, and her sister was reaped. I hug her, but she squirms and winces. "What is it Elizabeth? Did they…did they hit you?"

Elizabeth doesn't speak. That's not surprising; she hasn't spoken for twelve years. She draws away, but I pull her closer. I pull up her sleeves. No marks. Good. I pull up her trouser legs. No marks. Good. I turn her around and look down the back of her blouse.

Bruises. Horrible bruises. Some are a sickly yellow, others dark blue. I close my eyes. I made them promise that they would never hurt her…but look at that. _Just_ _look at that_. I should have known. After all, what do I mean to them? What does a promise mean to them? "Eliz. Elizabeth. Just… just hold on okay? I'll come home soon. Just a few months, tops. Then we can move out." She nods, and I hug her carefully. "Be careful Elizabeth. Hold on. We'll pull through." She smiles a little, but I can tell she doesn't believe me.

The Peacekeeper orders her out, and she gives me a grass bracelet. Clumsily made, but full of love. My eyes start to water, and I hug her for the last time.

* * *

Harley Rassell, 15

* * *

"You'll win this, you hear me? You can do this. You can come home, and you can help me get the farm runnin' like it used to."

Mom smiles and hugs me, but I can see the tears and desperation in her eyes. The farm hasn't been in the best condition since Dad died, and though Mom works hard, there are still the years where I have to sign up for tesserae, still the nights where we turn off the electric lamps early to save electricity. Mom won't admit it, but I know that she hasn't been doing so well lately.

Another thing Mom won't admit is that part of the problem is me. I wouldn't kill the animals, and now the meat farm isn't in business anymore.

I hug her back, and try to reassure her, "I'll try, mom. You know that. I'll try hard. I promise." She sits down on the couch, and I sit next to her, hugging her, talking to her until her time is up.

* * *

 **Thanks to Cat of Flame and Anonymous for two great tributes!**


	7. District 11 Reapings

**DISTRICT 11 REAPING**

 **Thanks to goldie031 again for beta-ing!**

* * *

Sheila Renway, 17

"My family is my strength and my weakness."

* * *

"Wake up, Sheila," says Emilia, my twin.

I smile softy at her and quietly get out of my bed. After making my bed and changing out of my sleep-clothes, I follow Emilia out of the house and into the flower fields.

The Capitol people love flowers, and there is quite a demand for flowers 'fresh out of the Districts'. Emilia and I aren't particularly strong or nimble, so the Peacekeepers send us to the flower fields to harvest the flowers, much to the disdain of the rest of my classmates. I sigh; I don't need any more reasons for my classmates to hate me. Most of them already dislike me for being white and rich, and after they found out that we did less work than them, all of them turned against Emilia and me.

It wasn't my choice to move to District Eleven anyways. My father, Brian, was forced to relocate to here from District Three after an accident in the labs resulted in the death of many of the agricultural technicians.

"Snap outta it, girl," A Peacekeeper growls. "The last fields of lavender need to be empty by the time the Reaping starts."

I quickly pick up my pace. Regardless of who my parents are, the consequences for not finishing work by the deadline are harsh. I walk past the wheat fields, looking down at my feet, being careful not to return any of the aggressive glares sent to me by my schoolmates.

* * *

Gingko Shiva, 15

"It's about time District 11 had a victor."

* * *

"Hey, Rain!" I shout.

The short boy sporting dreadlocks turns around and smiles at me. "Hey, Gingki!"

I wince at the nickname and feel even gladder that I won't have to put up with the stupid and naive boy anymore. He's way too much like my father, Basil. If I could, I would kill Basil, but getting out of it would be hard. There's basically no one I can frame his murder with, since I already killed my sister and framed my mother for her death. I wish I could've killed him along with my sister, but I need a legal guardian if I'm gonna stay out of the orphanages. So, since I can't kill Basil, I'll just have to settle for killing Rain.

An hour later, I'm slightly richer and much happier. I laugh as I remember how betrayed Rain looked. Oh, it was so good. So easy as well. All I had to do was to convince Rain to sneak into the grain silos and then call the Peacekeepers on him. After that…well, Rain's now missing a heartbeat.

At least Rain died for a good cause: providing money and entertainment for me. As a reward, the Peacekeepers give a small amount of money to anyone who turns troublemakers in. The more trouble the person made, the higher the amount of money the Peacekeepers will give as a reward. Because Rain didn't cause a lot of trouble, I only got some money, but hey, I'm on a schedule.

There's a Reaping to get ready for.

* * *

Sheila Renway, 17

"My family is my strength and my weakness."

* * *

I walk stiffly to the Reaping, feeling uncomfortable because my blue and white checkered Reaping dress is expensive and the other kids know it. I walk beside Emilia who's wearing a purple version of my dress and wave goodbye to my only friend, Ellina, as she walks past us to get into the 16-year-old Reaping area.

After Emilia and I check in, we join the other 17-year-old preliminary Reaping 'winners'. After the Mayor's speech, we watch the video: "War, terrible war…". Too soon, the escort is prancing up to the Reaping balls, and giving a short speech. Cold fear grips my heart as I remember the preliminary Reaping. Unlike in most of the other Districts, there is a preliminary Reaping because District Eleven has too many people and because we still need to harvest. The amount of people picked from each age group depends on which area you live in. In my area, sixteen people are picked from each age group.

 _There was no fuss about the preliminary Reaping, unlike the main Reaping. The picking was done in private in the Justice Building, and the list was read out after work on the Monday before the Reaping._

 _"For the sixteen-year-olds: Diego Alleris, Aster Bing…. Dellerina Weeks, and Ellina Zare." Emilia and I felt sorry for Ellina. It was her first time being picked in the prelims, and being picked in the prelims wasn't good news._

 _"For the seventeen year olds," the Peacekeeper began, "Gaston Atticus, Rye Camdyn…Sheila Renway, Emilia Renway…" Emilia and I looked at each other in horror. This was Emilia's second time being picked for the Reaping, and it was my third. All three of us in the Reaping…_

 _I didn't want to think about the chances that one of us three would be picked. Emilia and I only had our names in nine times, but Ellina had hers in twenty-one times. Oh, how I wish that none of us would be picked._

"Sheila Renway!"

Silence. Cold and terrible silence. All eyes turn to me.

They all know who I am.

I walk up to the stage, not meeting my twin's eyes. If I did, I would start crying, and if I start crying, I won't be able to stop.

* * *

Gingko Shiva, 15

"It's about time District 11 had a victor."

* * *

"Don't worry son, you won't get picked," says Basil. I nod at him and saunter to the fifteen-year-old area.

The Mayor and the video go blah, blah, blah, and then it's time for the Reaping to really begin. "Ladies first!" The escort babbles, and I snort. Who cares if the girls go first? It won't change anything.

"Sheila Renway!"

I smirk when I see Sheila walk up the stage. Serves her right, for always looking down on us. When I take a closer look at her though, I frown. She's weak. She won't go far into the Games at all. She'll be a Bloodbath, and District 11 doesn't need a Bloodbath tribute. It needs a Victor. I smile again and take a step towards the narrow aisle.

Basil was right. I wasn't going to get picked.

"Byron Villars!"

"I volunteer!"

I walk up the stage sadly but firmly, and tell Byron loudly that I am so sorry that he was Reaped, and that I had to volunteer. I promised that I would try to come home for him, and that 'little cuz, we'll be able to play ball like we used to'.

The dumb guy looked so confused, and had to be pulled off the stage.

I give a small smirk. It's about time District 11 had a victor.

* * *

Sheila Renway, 17

"My family is my strength and my weakness."

* * *

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so…" Emilia cries "I should've volunteered! But I was a wimp and…" She hugs me tight and continues to cry. I try not to cry along with her, and hug her.

"Sheila…I'm sorry. But you'll come back. I know it…here. Take this as a token." My mother says, while handing me a pressed flower. I let go of Emilia and hug my mother then my father.

"I promise I'll try to come home. I'll try my very best." My family members sniffle, then nod gratefully at me.

I clutch the pressed flower as the Peacekeepers order them out and push Ellina in. We sit in silence as she hugs me. She doesn't let go until the Peacekeeper orders her out.

* * *

Gingko Shiva, 15

"It's about time District 11 had a victor."

* * *

A bunch of my 'friends' come in and chatter about how brave I was to volunteer. I smirk and high-five them, until they leave. Basil comes in and tells me that I'm gonna win, and I smile at him. After all of that crap, I sit comfortably in the velvet sofa and wait for the adventure to begin.

* * *

 **AN: I'm sorry, I botched Sheila and Gingko. I'll try to come back and edit them later, but right now, I'm suffering through a severe case of writer's block. When I get inspired, we'll hop over to District 5, then District 6.**

 **Signing off,**

 **BrokenMockingjay.**


	8. District 5 Reapings

**DISTRICT 5 REAPING**

* * *

Carl Greensmyth, 17

'People don't want to hear the truth because they don't want to have their illusions destroyed"

* * *

I wearily climb up the rickety old steps of the apartment that my family lives in, and my heart pounds just as hard and just as fast as the raindrops on the filthy cracked windowpane on the wall next to the door that leads to my family. Before I can even knock, the door opens and my mother stares at me like I'm a stranger. I'm some ways, I am. "You can't come in, Carlia," she snaps, "I'm not letting you in after you spent the night in some alley with some slut."

"I don't want to come in, mother. I just came back so that I could collect my clothing for the Reaping. I don't want to get in trouble. And it's Carl. _Not Carlia_." I snarl, "For your information, I _didn't_ spend the night in an alley _or_ with a slut."

She glares at me angrily, then opens the door wider so that I can enter. "Just get your clothing then get out. If you don't…"

I brush past her, into the stark florescent light of the living room. I walk slowly to the room that Nykie and I share — more like used to share. My mother sort of kicked me out after I admitted that I was transgender, but since I'm still legally her son, she still has to let me in if I want to. What she _can_ do, though, is make me feel so unwelcome there that I usually _don't want_ to have anything to do with her.

I take a deep breath, and open the door. To my surprise, Nykie is awake. "Hello," I say quietly, and then turn around and grab my Reaping clothing, a green shirt and jeans. I've long since stopped caring about looking smart at the Reaping, but I don't want to risk punishment for looking muddy and wet at a Reaping.

"Goodbye," I whisper to my brother and my father, then walk briskly past my mother, into the rainy night.

* * *

Jake Carter, 16

"Physical strength doesn't mean you can win."

* * *

 _I wake up to rattling, crashes, and bangs. "Momma?" I call out, "Momma?" When I get no reply, I walk towards the kitchen, slightly afraid of what Mom will do. When I finally reach the door, I open it a crack and watch silently as my mother slams the cabinet doors, shatters plates, and throws pots and pans around. I make no move to stop her, though I desperately want to. After half an hour of this, I open the door wider and step in. I know I shouldn't bother her while she's in this fugue state, but I can't stand to watch my mother like this. Before I can take another step, someone lays a hand on my shoulder, preventing me from moving towards my mother. My older sister, Emma, pulls me out of the kitchen and shakes her head at me, but it's too late. My mother has already heard us and she's coming towards us will hollow eyes and matted hair and bony fingers and a sharp knife. I can feel her hot breath and I can hear Emma's screams and—_

"What the hell? Julia!" I bellow as I'm suddenly awake due to the icy cold water my younger sister splashed on me. I watch as she disappears from the hallway, cackling all the way.

I shut the door loudly, and try to calm myself. I close my eyes and lean back against the door. _It's okay, Jake. It's not real. It's just your imagination: She never stabbed you and she never will. And it's not her. It's her dementia. Calm down…_

When I feel my pulse slow down, I slowly get dressed, and walk down the stairs to the kitchen. "Good morning, Jake," says my father. I smile and bid him good morning in return.

I grab a plate of the omelettes that Emma made, and sit down at the table. "Did you like your surprise this morning?" Julia giggles, and I fake glare at her.

"Of course not!" I exclaim, and she explodes into peals of laughter.

"I came up with it," Alex jealously says. I ruffle his hair and laugh. Before he can open his mouth and begin an argument, my mother enters the room, smiling. I sigh in relief, and after giving her a big hug, go upstairs to change for the Reaping.

* * *

Carl Greensmyth, 17

* * *

I stand angrily in line to wait to have my finger pricked. I would rather be anywhere else except for with my mother. I hate the Reaping; it's incredibly humiliating for us and it's really unnecessary. Just pick a stupid name and be done with it.

"Next," says the Peacekeeper and I step forward. He moves forwards to prick my finger, but in an impulsive and stupid act of rebellion, I rip my hand out of his grip and hiss at him. He scowls at me, and the other Peacekeepers that were standing behind him march forwards and hold me in place so that their colleague can prick my finger. I refuse to wince even when the Peacekeeper digs the needle deep into my flesh. I sullenly judge my fingerprint next to my name on the printed sheet of paper and rudely spit at the Peacekeepers. One of the Peacekeepers whacks me hard, but I don't care. I don't know what has come over me, but it's incredibly satisfying after having to put up with years of bottling up.

After a few moments, the Reaping begins. I watch amusedly as the escort comes on stage and screams through the entire speech. "We'll be watching our favourite video now!" She shouts.

I roll my eyes through the entire video.

"Girls go first!" the escort says, and she moves her short purple arms around the bowl. Much to my chagrin, my name was still put in the female bowl. "Carlia Greensmyth!" I scowl angrily. Can't they accept that I'm Carl, not Carlia? I stomp up the stage, and angrily take my place.

Stupid world.

* * *

Jake Carter, 16

* * *

"Hey, Ben!" I call out. My boyfriend turns around and he smiles at me.

"Hey, Jake!" He shouts back. I run over to him and hug him hard. I can tell he wants to talk a bit more, but his twin calls him over and after flashing and apologetic smile at me, he jogs back to his brother.

"Jake!" calls Annie, and I whirl around to meet her amber eyes. She's really pretty and smart, and if I wasn't gay and hadn't already had a boyfriend, I probably would have ended up with her.

"Hey!"

"I think he'd be a good match for you," she says, pointing at a random guy. I roll my eyes at her antics; we've been trying to set each other up with different people since day one, despite my protests at already being taken. She's always been skeptical about Ben ever since she heard about how he once swung a pipe into my arm and broke it.

"Nah, I don't think so, _Ann_ , but I think that guy over there would be perfect for you," I say as I point over to a guy who was in my math class a few years back. She shakes her head at my nickname for her, then quickly heads over to the female section for the 16 year olds once she sees the escort, Spangle, climbing up the stairs to the stage.

"Jake Carter!" Spangle bellows, and shocked, I walk up the stage.

"Shake hands." Spangle commands, and the guy? girl? that's on stage with me angrily complies.

* * *

Carl Greensmyth, 17

* * *

"Good riddance!" My mother spits as she enters the room. I know that she's only here to keep up her reputation.

Nykie and my father sit uncomfortably until my mother snorts and walks out of the room. "Carl, please come back! I know you don't live with us anymore, but…" Nykie trails off. I stare at him blankly, but nod. Nykie mostly uses male pronouns for me and calls me 'Carl', but still will call me 'Carlia' if our mother is around.

My father twitches uncomfortably, but forces out: "Uh, try to win, Carlia." After a few more minutes of staring, he sighs and walks out, Nykie close on his heels.

I kick the furniture and walls, but my heart isn't into it. Stupid world.

* * *

Jake Carter, 16

* * *

Emma stares at me sympathetically, and then awkwardly says: "Oh, Jake. This really is bad luck, isn't it? But I know you can do it. I know you can come home." I blink back tears. Emma really was my rock for the past few years, taking charge and helping me cope with the annoying twins, our distant father, and our crazy mother.

Alex stares at me while frantically fiddling with a bracelet. Julia nudges him and he shakes his head at her. "I…I CAN'T DO IT!" Alex shouts while sobbing. He hugs me, and I pat his back comfortingly.

Julia shakily takes the bracelet from Alex and passes it to me. "Mother wanted to give this to you, but she flipped out in the corridor, so Dad and Mason had to bring her back. Mason and Dad say good luck. Well, Mason said it but you know…" Julia rambles on.

"You have to come home, Jake!" Alex abruptly says.

"I'll try my very best." I reply slowly.

"No, you have to promise." Alex urgently hisses.

"I can't do that." I whisper. "Sorry, but I can't, Alex—"

"TIME'S UP!" The Peacekeeper shouts. I hear bangs from the other room, and the Peacekeeper disappears. My family get up, bid me goodbye and good luck, then leave.

* * *

 **AN: Sorry guys for the long wait! I've been cramming for my exams, so sorry if this chapter isn't quality. Thanks to Jeptwin and I believe in nargles too for these awesome tributes.**

 **QOTC: Predicted placings? Any other thoughts on this pair?**

 **Signing Off,**

 **BrokenMockingjay**


	9. District 6 Reapings

**DISTRICT 6 REAPINGS**

* * *

Tyra Benson, 13

"The Capitol is not trustworthy, and we are disposable pawns."

* * *

"You don't have to do this, you know…" My older brother whispers. "It's not like—" He's cut off by harsh coughs. "Yes, I have to. There's no other way, unless you want me pickpocketing again." I whisper back. He shakes his head sadly at me, and reluctantly passes me the expensive camera and walkie-talkie that look out of place in the old apartment that I call home.

But hey, the Capitol spares no expense when it comes to catching criminals that steal from the trains packages meant for Capitol people.

I walk briskly outside into the cool morning air, and look at the rapidly lightening sky.

If I don't hurry, I won't be able to catch the gangs. They usually break up at dawn to go collect the early-morning packages. I sigh, if my brother and mother hadn't forbade it, I would still be sneaking into one of the warehouse crates to record the gangs plans. It made for even more money, because then the Peacekeepers would know where to patrol before the gangs could even make a move.

Even better, if the Peacekeepers caught twenty gangs a year thanks to my spying and recording, I would be out of the Reaping for that year. This year though, thanks to my brother tipping off my mother, I only managed to get eighteen. But it wasn't only my mother, it was Aliya as well. Aliya is another girl who the Capitol 'hired' to spy on the gangs this year. She's been tailing me and then tipping off the Peacekeepers before I can. I bet she got twenty gangs. Or more.

I shake my head and climb up the stairs of an abandoned apartment building, pulling myself up onto the roof. Just as I peek over the ledge to look down at the alley where the gang meets, I see four of them flank the gang leader and enter the apartment that I'm hiding on top of, as the rest break off. I tail what I gather to be the gang leader's second-in-command, and use the walkie-talkie to notify the closest Peacekeepers of where I think they will be approaching the train, only to see them already there. I turn around and scowl at the figure behind me.

Stupid Aliya stealing my job. I try to convince myself that the Capitol probably wouldn't have had the time to extract my name from the list, even if I had caught two gangs this morning. It doesn't work, and I still angrily slink back home.

* * *

Toph Reading, 12

"Trains are pretty awesome."

* * *

"Mooommmmm!" my nine-year-old sister, Toyota, wails. "Moooommm! Toph stole my dress for the Reaping!"

When my mom reaches the doorway, I sit innocently in Toyota's bed, wearing her bright-pink dress. "Moooom!" I wail mockingly, "Toyota doesn't need the dress! She's not even in the Reaping Ball! I neeeed it! It's _my_ first Reaping!" Sentra sighs good-naturedly, and as I expected, she asks me to give Toyota back her dress. I smile gleefully as Toyota takes back her dress and wears it. "Buh bye!" I shout to Sentra and Laine before Toyota realises that there's itching powder in her new dress.

"Hi Toph." Bender calls shyly. I smile and wave him over. Bender is fairly new to the neighbourhood, and can be painfully shy and quiet, but he's a good friend and has opened up a little. "Do you have a board game with you today?" I ask, and he smiles a little and shakes his head. The first time he met my friends and I, he was carrying a large Monopoly box. He had gotten so flustered at the sight of all three of us that he accidentally dropped his game on the tracks and got the entire thing squashed.

"Guys! Wait up!" calls Linus, and we wait for him and Penn to reach us before continuing to walk towards the train station. It's our first Reaping, and all of us are nervous. Linus tries to get the rest of us to smile by armpit farting, and it works. Penn pretends that there is a bad smell, and I almost fall over laughing. Bender laughs and says: "Hey, guys. Last night I was playing Monopoly with my family, and do you know what I found out? I found out that all four of our names are related to the railroad names in Monopoly!" We all stare at him blankly, not knowing the names of the railroads in Monopoly. "You know, Reading Railroad, Pennsylvania Railroad, B. & O. Railroad, and Short Line?"

After a pause, where all of us stare at him blankly, Penn exclaims: "Oh! I get it! Oh! Toph _Reading_ , Linus _Short_ , _B_ ender _O_ lson, you know, his initials are B&O, and because my last name is Silva and my first name is Penn…I'm _Pennsilva_!" He laughs, and the rest of us join in.

* * *

Tyra Benson, 13

* * *

I walk slowly to the tram that will take me to the courtyard in front of the Train Museum, which is were the Reaping will take place.

I glare half-heartedly at Aliya who's standing, semi-relaxed, against the tram, waiting for her family. I envy her knowing that she can't be Reaped, while I…while I have at least 30 slips in there. And this is my _second_ year.

I climb aboard the crowded tram, and stare at the passing city. District 6 was never the most beautiful district; it doesn't have the green, rolling fields of Ten, the golden wheat of Eleven, the thick, peaceful forests of Seven, or the crystal clear waters of Four, but it's my home and to me, it's the best place in Panem. The technological wonders that we have here, the towering skyscrapers in the richer part of Six, are all beautiful in their own right.

As I climb down the tram, I walk alone to the courtyard. My mother obviously is out of the Reaping, and my brother got out last year, and they will watch from the small roads designated for the people who are out of the Reaping. Some people think that it's useless to call all of of us out if only the 12-18 year olds are involved, but I feel comforted knowing that my mother and brother are out here, just like me, instead of me being out here alone and them at home. Anyways, I'm pretty sure they use the Reapings to calculate the population of each District. After all, the people who aren't getting Reaped have to sign in as well.

The area where the other kids my age are is as crowded and confusing as it was last year, and I find a less noisy spot at the back of the roped off area meant for the thirteen-year-olds. Unlike last year, I'm nervous.

"Hey!" says Aliya. "Why are you nervous? I mean, _we_ aren't getting Reaped, are we?" She winks and I stare at her blankly. Either she's doing this purposely to be annoy me or completely stupid. How the heck am I supposed to bust twenty gangs a year with her constantly stealing _my_ work? Even if I managed to get twenty gangs, does she really think talking about not going to get Reaped is a good idea?

"I actually might get Reaped, Aliya. And you may too." I manage to mumble. I can tell she isn't sure If I'm faking or not, and that she doesn't know what the second part means. But I mean exactly what I say. She may get Reaped. The Capitol is not trustworthy, and we are disposable pawns.

"Tyra Benson!"

She stares at me in shock.

* * *

Toph Reading, 12

* * *

"As soon as you get home from the Reaping, mister, you are going straight to your room, you hear me? You are _grounded_ for a week. And don't you dare talk back to me!" Laine exclaims.

I close my mouth, and pull a silly face a Toyota who's standing behind Sentra. She's still scratching, and I smirk amusedly. She scowls back. "Ugh just go, Toph! You're gonna be late if you don't leave now!" Toyota sneers. "After all, you're gonna hafta walk there! I'll be taking the tram with Laine and Sentra."

"What? Seriously?" I shriek "I can't walk there! That'll take forever! I'll be late!"

"Of course not, silly! I was just joking!" Toyota laughs. "I should've taken a picture. Your—your face!"

"Kids! We gotta go now, or we'll really be late!" Sentra calls out.

Once we get to the courtyard, I spot Linus. "Toph! Where were you? Bender, Penn and I wanted to go and check out the trains in the museum! But now that you're kinda late we can't." He frowns a little. "Anyways, I guess we can go after the Reaping, huh?" He laughs weakly.

Knowing what he's thinking about, I say "Don't worry, Linus! I'm pretty sure we'll get through. Bender and Penn only have one slip, and I have two. How many do you have?"

"Three." He makes a worried face.

"Well, that means we in total only have…eight slips?"

"Seven."

"Even better! What are the odds that any of us are gonna get picked?"

"You're right, I'm worrying too much. We'll get through, then we can go and check out those train models in the museum, then if we have extra time we can go and check out the car museum near here. Bender's dad will drive us."

"That's a great plan! I'll have to check in with Laine and Sentra after the Reaping though."

"Okay!"

* * *

Tyra Benson, 13

* * *

The three of us sit in silence. Ryder, Mom, and I never were much for words.

I sit in between them, with Ryder attempting to hide his coughs and Mom hugging me tightly, as if this way she could keep the Peacekeepers from keeping us apart.

Aliya stands in the doorway and wishes me goodbye, but I don't answer. It's partly because I'm still slightly angry at her, partly because I don't know how my family is going to survive without me, and partly because I don't know how _I_ will survive in the arena. Aliya lingers awkwardly in the doorway for awhile, but the three of us do not respond to her presence. She leaves quickly after that.

"I'm going to start working." Ryder says quietly. "I won't be able to go back to fixing the trains, but I spoke to someone, and they said that they need more people to load up the parcels." I turn my horrified eyes to my mother, expecting her to say something against Ryder working again.

He damaged his lungs after an accident with a train and some gas leaking out, and they have been extremely sensitive, even after the expensive treatments that cost our valuables. The parcels are not as bad as going back to the trains, but the parcels are dusty, and that will not be good for Ryder.

However, Mom says nothing, and Ryder opens then closes his mouth, as if to say something then deciding against it. The two of them watch me intently, but I don't say anything. Even though I don't agree with this, this is the way things have to be. My mother has been working day and night, and grabbing any shift she can at the train station. She has a dozen odd jobs in addition to that, and she somehow manages to squeeze them into her time.

She can't continue like that, and with me gone, they won't be able to last.

Ryder closes the circle that is formed by us three.

* * *

Toph Reading, 12

* * *

Toyota is crying as Laine carries her in. Sentra follows them, and helps Laine seat Toyota. Toyota clings to me as I shift closer to her, and I pull her onto my lap. Laine clears her throat. "Toph…we're very very sorry…"

"Hey… Mom. Mother. Toyota. It'll be fine. I'll find a way." I say, hoping that it won't turn out to be a lie, but knowing that it is. I'm too young and small to win. "Um…Thanks, Mom and Mother. Thanks for taking me and Toyota in after we got dumped at the Home. Thanks." I say in a rare moment of sentiment.

"Thank you for being in our lives, Toph." Sentra says softly. "I know you'll try your best to come home, but Toph…" Her voice cracks. "Don't lose yourself in the arena. Stay true to _you._ But please…" She closes her eyes, and stops abruptly.

"Toph, we'll forgive you. But please don't…don't…not more than you have to. We'll miss you, but we'll cheer you on. Don't forget that we're watching, and that we love you more than you can imagine. You'll always be my little Toph Reading, my funny, smart, outgoing, train nerd. I love you." Laine reaches over Toyota and gives me a warm hug.

"For you." Toyota sniffles, and hands me over a slightly sweaty small toy train. It's bright blue, with small blue accents. It fits perfectly in my hand. "Thanks, Toyota. I'll miss ya." She smiles a bit, then continues to snuggle into my side, sobbing. I feel like doing that too. We've always been together, from the orphanage to now. But now I'll be gone, and I can't protect her and teach her all the things I wanted to. I choke down an uncharacteristic sob. I can't afford to break down now.

"Well, I guess my grounding will have to wait, Mom." I say. She laughs shortly.

After that, the Peacekeepers ask them to leave, and Toyota is dragged out by a crying Laine and a stoic Sentra. My three friends are ushered in, and told that they only have ten minutes.

"Hello." All three of them chorus. There's a pause before the laughing starts. Even then, the mood is sombre and dampened. After it stops, the silence is awkward and painful.

"Wow, Toph. I can't believe it." Linus blurts out. "You got reaped."

Penn elbows him sharply. "Way to go, Captain Obvious."

"Well, you weren't going to say anything! You were just gonna sit there and stare like he grew a third head!"

"Couldn't you have been more subtle? Dude, he's in shock!" Penn retorts. But I'm not in shock. I know exactly what's happening, and my mind has never been clearer, and emotions as sharp.

"Guys, could you not argue right now? We're here to say goodbye— no, see you later, and not argue!" Bender exclaims.

Surprised by his outburst, the two quiet down. "Hey, Toph. We'll miss you a lot, okay? I can't believe this is happening. You've been my friend for so long, I can't imagine a life without your constant companionship. You've been an amazing friend, and…we have your back. We'll be rooting for you. One hundred percent." Penn says in a rush, then half-hugs me awkwardly.

Bender sits up a little, then begins. "Um, Toph? Thanks for welcoming me when I moved. It was really hard because the move was so sudden, and I had to leave all these people I've known all my life. You made it a bit less scary, so thank you for that. And like Penn said…I'll miss you." He sits back, and takes a gulp of water, unused to saying so much at once.

Then it's Linus' turn. "We'll go to the car and train museums when you come back." He says simply. "We'll go, then you can geek out over the trains, and—"

"Linus can geek out over the cars." Penn breaks in.

Linus mock-glares at him, then continues. "Then we'll go back home. Then we'll go on like usual, except _you'll_ be super rich, and we'll be begging you for cool stuff." His voice breaks. "Who am I kidding…" He mutters and pauses. "I'll miss you a lot." He finally says.

The three of them slowly walk out.

* * *

 **A/N: Guys, you don't know how sorry I am. I'm so sorry for just disappearing for months on end, then come back with a crappy chapter. I didn't get it beta-d yet, but I will soon. Sorry guys, especially since Tyra's backstory is kinda confusing now. I mean, _I'm her creator and writer_ and _I_ find her backstory underdeveloped.**

 **Thanks to AmericanPi and Hopps for giving me the motivation to finally continue.**

 **Thanks again to AmericanPi for Toph, who was a pleasure to write.**

 **~Broken**


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